


Look at me now, steady as we burn

by fultimeinternet



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Friends to Lovers, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 16:43:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15867636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fultimeinternet/pseuds/fultimeinternet
Summary: "It makes Hana wonder, if this is how things are going to be--forever in each other's orbit, just waiting, and waiting."Or, a midnight joyride gives way to a roller-coaster of emotions as Hana and Yuna try to avoid dealing with their feelings.





	Look at me now, steady as we burn

In her dreams, Hana sees her city in ruins.  ~~~~

Every time she closes her eyes...

It’s a terrifying reminder of what’s at stake, and what might happen if she fails.

 

She heaves a long, exhausted sigh—an echo of a sound in the otherwise quiet hallway.

She rubs the heels of her hands against her eyes, watching the spots of color dance under the pressure. She can feel the beginnings of a headache creep along the base of her neck and the tension between her shoulders is aching from having spent the better part of her day hunched over her mech. She blinks at the vending machine until her vision clears and the neon pink and green lights don’t look so blurry anymore.

Then she rubs at her neck, rolling her head to the side to work out some of the soreness.

It’s been months now since the latest  _Gwishin_  attack but the warning bells in her mind keep on ringing.

They always do. It’s what keeps her on her toes, always alert.

While her arm is all healed up by now, her leg is still stuck in a walking boot and as a result, she’s been spending a good chunk of time cooped up inside the MEKA headquarters and away from the public eye. As much as possible, that is, given the circumstances. Anyhow. Hana figured the best use of her ‘free time’ is to work on her mech so that’s what she does. After what happened during her latest 'suicide mission', as Dae-Hyun insists on calling it, she decided to implement a new self-destruct ability. Despite him telling her that it’s a death wish waiting to happen, Hana is convinced it will prove itself useful, if not essential, in the long run. She likes to think of it as having an ace up her sleeve—or just, one last resort.

Her ears perk up at the sound of hushed footsteps, but relaxes once she sees who it is.

In the shadowed dimness of the hallway, Yuna’s figure is no more than a silhouette, her pupils almost cat-like.

Her expression gives nothing away even as she comes closer.

“Hey,” she whispers, voice slightly hoarse, and suddenly the air seems full of static as they lock eyes in the neon lighting of the vending machines. “Are you alright?”

“Yup,” Hana replies all too quickly, popping the ‘p’ as she selects the number for her beverage. “I’m fine.”

But ‘fine’ never means  _fine_ , not really, and Yuna knows it; Hana does too. She’s not quite sure why she bothers to pretend when it’s just them. Maybe she’s grown so used to doing it nowadays that it’s becoming second nature to her.

Yuna doesn’t say anything else after that. She just stands there, quietly, hip pressed to the frame of the vending machine and arms crossed over her chest.

Hana opens her drink—the pop and hiss of the cap coming off all too loud in the silence that stretches between them.

She can feel Yuna’s eyes on her as she takes the first sip, and for a brief moment, Hana considers whether or not she should be making a smart-ass comment right now. This type of situation practically begs for a ’ _like what you see?’_  line.

But her body decides to betray her and she’s overtaken by a yawn as soon as she opens her mouth.

 _Nice._  She fights the urge to roll her eyes at herself.  ** _GG_** _, Song-Hana. You’re such a player._

“You need to get some sleep,” Yuna says, somehow making herself come off as both nonchalant and concerned while giving Hana a once-over. “You’re starting to look less like a  **diva**  and more like a… walking corpse.”

Hana scoffs. “Yeah?” She takes her cap off, runs fingers through her hair, then strikes a pose. “How about now?” She asks with an exaggerated flutter of her eyelashes and pouty lips, “You like it?”

Yuna rolls her eyes, amusement tugging at the corners of her mouth. She snatches Hana’s cap from her hand and shoves it back onto her head, so low on her eyes she can’t see. “Don’t flatter yourself.” She takes the soda can from Hana’s hand and whatever protest might’ve been in Hana’s mind just then, it instantly curls up, forgotten, at the sight of Yuna taking a casual sip, her lips touching the same spot Hana’s lips touched not even a minute ago.

Hana swallows hard against a dry throat but doesn’t look away.

She watches the side of Yuna's face, and how the pink lights steal over her features—the soft bend of her nose, the way her eyelashes cast shadows like webs across her cheeks—making it all seem soft and hazy, like she's floating through a lucid dream.

She feels a surge of affection so strong that when Yuna turns to go, Hana can’t stop herself from reaching out and tugging on a sleeve.

“ _Unnie._ ”

Yuna turns around, eyebrows raised in surprise, and Hana licks her lips nervously.

“Let’s go for a ride,” she blurts out before she can think twice about it.

“Now?”

Hana nods and Yuna narrows her eyes to look at her with undisguised suspicion.

This wouldn’t be their first time at all.

This used to be their thing, something that dates all the way back to their e-sports days; a different time, filled with incessant practice, tournaments and arcade games. But this is the first time Hana sees Yuna hesitate like this, the first time she questions it as if there’d be an ulterior motive behind the whole thing. Hana realizes she can’t even blame her. She’s well aware, too, how it goes for them these days… Viewer expectations factor too heavily into everything they do, and lines are so blurry it gets harder and harder to see—where the pretense ends, where the truth resides. These days... it’s hard to say, what’s real anymore.

And it stings to think that somewhere along the line, even something as simple as this stopped being a normal occurrence, that it stopped being a casual thing, something they can  **just do—** no publicity stunts or fan-service—just them hanging out. Like they used to.

Inevitably, it makes Hana wonder… If they go on like this…

How long until they end up circling back to square one, when they were nothing more than two lonely strangers.

The thought makes her fingers curl slightly into the material of Yuna’s sleeve, unwilling to let go.

“I, uh… I did a few upgrades to my hover-bike. We could take it for a spin?” And there’s a ‘ _just like old times_ ’ that falls between the lines; there’s a silent ‘ _I miss how simple things used to be, sometimes_ ’. There’s even an ‘ _I miss **us** —I miss  **you**_ ’ that goes unspoken, but Hana thinks, maybe, Yuna hears it all anyway. “It’s been a while.”

Yuna tilts her head the tiniest bit like she’s actively considering the offer, weighing her alternatives, and Hana almost resigns herself to being turned down but then Yuna smiles at her—a rare, genuine smile that relaxes the lines on her face and softens her eyes. “Okay,” she says, her tone somewhat teasing as she motions in the general direction of Hana’s right cheek. “Wipe your face and meet me in 10 minutes at our usual spot.”

 

_Aish!_

Hana brings an arm up to hide her face, groaning into the crook of her elbow with embarrassment as soon as Yuna is out of sight.

She curses under her breath as she makes a beeline for her dorm room, wiping aggressively at her cheek with the sleeve of her jacket.

 

 

After fitting the helmet on her head, Hana pats the front seat of the hover-bike, invitingly, and waggles her brows.

“Ready for me to teach you how to ride  _this_   **beast**?” She challenges, a note of flirtation to her words.

But Yuna doesn’t take the bait. She goes ahead and swings her leg over the bike, slowly, getting into position.

“I can handle it just fine, thank you.” She takes the extra helmet that’s tucked under Hana’s arm and slides it on.

Hana bites her lip around a smile.

Yuna is stubborn and kind of arrogant—always been that way—but not without basis, and besides, it’s not like Hana can throw any stones in that direction. After all, they are both crazy similar in that regard. No doubt, if there’s one thing they’ve always had in common, it’s their ambitious nature and their competitive streak. Hana figures, it comes with the pro-gaming territory. And she finds a certain sense of comfort in this one simple fact that will likely never change.

Yuna clears her throat all of a sudden and Hana blinks, taking a couple of  _long_  seconds to get the hint.

_Right._

She needs the identification code to get the system started.

Hana clears her throat, too, as she steps closer to the touch-screen.

“I programmed it so that it works with your handprint too now.” She reaches for Yuna’s right hand, taking a gentle hold of her wrist. “Here.”

She can feel the way Yuna stiffens a little bit beside her but she allows Hana to guide her hand towards the touch-screen and press her palm gently against the display.

The hover-bike comes alive beneath Yuna’s touch, and Hana finds herself staring at the cute furrow of concentration between Yuna's brows as she studies the controls on the screen, her face illuminated by the bluish light.

Hana bends a little closer without realizing, until Yuna turns her head and suddenly they are faces to face, the air between them electric.

Time slows down, or so it feels, for that one moment, as Hana struggles to breathe between the seconds. It occurs to her that she'd only need to lean in an inch or two and she’d be kissing Yuna right now. She swallows thickly at the thought and instinctively licks her lips. Without even really meaning to, she finds herself leaning away, and Yuna looks almost startled by her sudden movement.

Hana clears her throat.

“Okay, then,” she says, now that she can look at Yuna properly, without all of that distracting intimacy. Her fists clench against the nervous feeling that’s swimming in her fingers before she climbs onto the seat and wraps her arms around Yuna's waist, hanging tight onto her back. “Ready?”

Yuna nods, once. Hana thinks—for just the span of a heartbeat—that she caught a hint of a blush coloring her cheeks before her shoulders square up the tiniest bit and she turns to stare right ahead.

They inch forward in tandem as the door leading to the outside world rolls upwards.

Hana tightens her arms around Yuna’s middle and closes her eyes for a minute, then exhales.

 

The midnight air is cool, the stars bright and shiny above their heads. The city is neon-lit and vibrant.

Yuna is focused. She drives down the busy highway with a refined skill that Hana almost envies, but there’s a spark of eagerness to it too, like she wants to prove herself, to show that she’s got what it takes.

Hana holds on, breathes in; feels the rushing wind rustle their clothes and smiles.

There’s something about driving through the city at night like this; a sort of glowing energy, an adrenaline rush that comes from watching all the flashing billboards and neon-lit buildings whip past them in a blur of fluorescent lighting.

She rests her chin on Yuna’s shoulder, getting closer so she can be heard as she suggests a destination. 

 ~~~~Yuna turns her head briefly, causing their helmets to clack together. It makes Hana laugh, and it’s a pleasant surprise when she feels Yuna shake with laughter against her, too. She catches a glimpse of her face, alight with the glow of the city, a wild breeze in her hair, and Hana's skin starts tingling with a familiar sensation, the way it always does when Yuna is around.

It feels like the striking of a match, something hard and bright in her chest—it feels tight, it feels full, it feels alive.

She stares up at the expanse of sky above them and from where she sits behind Yuna, folded together like this, with the night thrumming all around them and the sound of her heartbeat loud in her ears, Hana feels it deeply just then, as if for the very first time. She feels the sense of possibility in a night like this, where everything is the illusion of something new and unwritten. The stars twinkle, growing brighter—they seem so close tonight that she can almost feel them prickle over her skin, sinking inside of her and making every nerve-ending buzz, white hot and electric.

It makes her feel the way she imagines anyone her age should feel—nineteen, untethered, and free.

 

 

When they finally reach their destination, Hana is still grinning. Her heart is pounding and her hands are still clutching the material of Yuna’s jacket even as she slows the vehicle to a stop in front of the karaoke place they used to frequent during their e-sports days.

Yuna takes her helmet off and twists in her seat to glance back at Hana who is already climbing off.

“You know the drill,” Hana says after taking off her own helmet. She shakes her fist, eagerly getting ready for rock-paper-scissors. “ _Kai Bai Boh?_ ”

She watches Yuna with a glint in her eye, part-mischief, part-challenge, goading her to accept.

 ~~~~In turn, Yuna fixes her with a penetrating stare—an agreement and a dare, all at once. “Game on.”

 

 

 

 

“ ** _No_.** ”

Yuna crosses her arms over her chest, determined to stand her ground and defend her wounded pride. She roots herself in her seat, one leg crossed over the other. Wreathed in the colorful disco lights of the karaoke room, her scowl looks more comical than intimidating.

“I am  **not**  singing that song. Again.”

“C’mon, grumpy cat,” Hana teases, as she plops down onto the leather sofa. She playfully jabs Yuna in the ribs with her mic. “You love this song.”

“Oh, really? And what exactly gave you that impression?”

Hana gives a little shrug. “You know all the words to it.”

“Yes! Because. They are written on the screen!”

Hana snorts, waving a dismissive hand. “Whatever. Deal’s a deal.” She pats Yuna’s cheek in mock tenderness before getting up to cross the room back to the touch-screen menu. She turns around, all smug. “Do I need to remind you? The winner—” She points proudly at herself with the mic— “gets to pick all the songs, and the  **loser** —” She points at Yuna— “has to sing along without complaints."

Yuna sighs in defeat as she runs a hand through her hair and pushes herself up from the sofa. Making her way back to Hana’s side, she grumbles something else under her breath but it’s lost to the music blaring out from the booming sound system and Hana already shouting into the mic:

“[ _Cheer up, baby!_   _CHEER UP, BABY!_](https://youtu.be/c7rCyll5AeY)”

 

Singing along, Hana tries to get Yuna to do the ~ _shy, shy, shy~_  part with her but Yuna remains thoroughly unimpressed. 

"Ugh,  _fine_ ," Hana whines as she presses ‘pause’ to go through the menu. "I _guess_  we can play another song.”

She taps a finger on her chin, pretending to think. “How about…”

 

“ ** _TWICE!_** _”_

_“[What is love?!](https://youtu.be/i0p1bmr0EmE)”_

 

Yuna groans.

 

Two songs later, she has completely given in.

Hana thinks she is practically a newly-converted TWICE fan now, as they both sing to the top of their lungs:

 

“ _[ME LIKEY! ME LIKEY LIKEY LIKEY! ME LIKEY LIKEY LIKEY!](https://youtu.be/V2hlQkVJZhE)_ ”

 

They’re both out of breath, barely able to keep up with the lyrics between fits of laughter. The music is so loud it makes Hana's skin tingle and her lungs feel like mush. The bass thumps in time with her heart beat, their joined voices echo in her ears, and despite her foot brace, Hana can’t seem to stop moving. It’s like liquid adrenaline being injected right into her blood stream—it makes her feel happy and dizzy and lightheaded all at once.

It feels wonderful, this letting go; nowadays, she is more than grateful for any excuse to laugh like this.

They collide a few times as they dance, dissolving into giggles. Hana trips over her own feet and Yuna has to grab onto her arm to steady her.

 

Yuna opens her mouth then, as if to say something, and Hana leans forward instinctively to hear over the noise.

But instead, she finds herself frozen in the path of Yuna’s gaze. There’s just something about the way she looks right now, with bouncing lights reflected in her eyes, that expression on her face—so open and honest for a change; soft and unguarded.

Her cheeks are flushed, and Hana has to wonder, if it’s because of the exhilaration or maybe—just maybe—she’s blushing.

As the moment stretches between them, taut and heady and thick with tension, it makes Hana’s nerves tingle, her heart pulsing at the back of her tongue, her thoughts tripping over themselves. In the back of her mind, she can still hear the music, but it’s all background noise.  

She takes a sharp breath and her control slips between heartbeats as her lips part slightly with the instinct to kiss, to draw closer...

 

But then the song is over, and their time is up, and Hana blinks out of her daze the second Yuna steps back and stands off to the side like nothing happened. She takes her jacket from the sofa, and the door is suddenly thrown open, bathing them both in a too-bright wedge of light.

Hana hears her say, “We should go.”

And just like that, the moment is over.

 

 

 

It's awkward silence between them after that.

The air is thick with unasked questions, one of which is, of course:  _what the hell just happened back there?!_

As they walk side by side, Hana’s insides feel like they’re about to boil, her eyes fixed mostly on the sidewalk.

Yuna seems unbothered as she stares up ahead, her eyes faraway.

In the dark, Hana can only catch a glimpse of turmoil on her face as they pass underneath neon billboards, as cars roar past, their headlights blinding. At one flash, Yuna looks strangely unsure, and by the next, her face is once again cold, as immovable as stone. ~~~~

“ _Unnie_ , wait...” Hana mutters after she falls a few paces behind, then stops.

Yuna slowly turns around, and Hana hesitates. Willing her pulse back to normal before it becomes painfully obvious that she got so worked up over nothing— _aigoo!_  Seriously. She needs to get her head back in the game. At last, she clears her throat, and says, “Let’s go get something to eat.”

 

 

Hana fiddles with her sleeves as they wait for the instant ramyun to cook, her feet swinging on the stool. She alternates between staring out the window of the convenience store and stealing glances at Yuna who sits on the stool next to her.

 _Do you want to talk about it?_ Hana wants to ask, but doesn’t.

Somehow, the moment feels delicate, easily breakable, so she keeps quiet, for now.

They eat in silence, just barely not touching up until the point that Hana shifts a little bit in her seat and their shoulders press together. As they reach for the can of  _kimchi_  at the same time, their hands brush—just a slight contact of fingers and sleeves, but Hana feels it like a bolt of electricity, moving straight up her spine. Yuna rests her hand on the counter and doesn't shift away, so Hana doesn’t move either.

They stand motionless, as if in stasis.

Their eyes meet in the blurred reflection on the window, and Hana’s ears begin to buzz like she’s underwater.

She tries her best to give herself something else to focus on other than how violently her heart is pounding against her chest or the annoying whirlwind of thoughts that circles around her head. She twirls the chopsticks in her hand, chews her noodles slowly, thumb rubbing against the edge of the ramyun cup. It’s useless, she realizes. She can’t shake the lingering undercurrent of tension.

It’s like they’re both just biding their time, suspended in a fragile equilibrium—both of them just waiting for the other to take the leap.

Hana bites back a sigh as she licks some  _kimchi_  sauce off of her thumb, then her lips. She can feel Yuna’s intense gaze on the side of her face, and it takes them both by surprise when Hana catches her staring and Yuna almost gives herself noodle whiplash, splattering broth all over the counter.

Hana bursts into a fit of giggles. "Too spicy for you, huh?"

“ _Aish,”_  Yuna hisses under her breath, blowing a strand of hair from her face as she tries to wipe the surface as nicely as she can with the few napkins they have. She frowns, wrinkling her nose in distaste until she gets the job done.

“ _Yah!_ ” She throws a piece of wet napkin in Hana’s face to stop her from snickering then she stands up. Under the fluorescent lighting of the convenience store, she looks a funny mix between amused and annoyed as she folds her arms and narrows her eyes at Hana. “Are you done?”

“Yup,” Hana nods, her voice strained from holding in her laughter, “Let’s go.”

She wipes hastily at her mouth with her sleeve as she gets up to her feet and rushes to catch up to Yuna.

 

 

Outside, they keep to the sidewalk until they reach the alleyway where they parked the hover-bike.

The morning is only hours away, but Hana doesn't want to go back just yet, and neither does Yuna. Hana can tell.

For a moment, they just stand there, keeping their distance, neither of them quite sure what to say.

A car drives by, bathing them in light before leaving them once again to wallow in the dark.

Yuna leans against the hover-bike, her arms folded and her head tipped back to gaze at the wash of stars above.

The way Hana sees it, the night sky is the color of the deep blue sea. But it doesn’t feel calming at all.

She wonders if Yuna can feel it, too—that palpable dread, that charge in the air and the very distinct and constant feeling that so many things are at stake. Always. The feeling is all cold-sweat and a heavy panic, like everything’s closing in around her—inching closer and closer and closer, it’s suffocating; like drowning.

She blows out a breath, visible in the dead of the night.

She feels shaky as she breathes in, and breathes out.

She closes her eyes and lets the sounds of the city filter in.

 

 

“Hana?”

The word comes like an arrow, shooting straight through the dark surface of her thoughts.

It makes her eyes blink open at once. She meets Yuna’s, dark and piercing, and seeing right through her.

“Hey.” Her forehead is creased with concern as she takes a tentative step closer. “Are you not feeling well?”

“Yeah, no.” Hana shakes her head and shrugs it off. “I’m fine, don’t worry.”

Yuna doesn’t say anything else right away, but then she begins to slowly shake her head, too.

“There you go again,” she sighs. “How long are you planning on keeping this up?”

“What?” Hana blinks; a puzzled frown creasing her forehead.

“This thing you’re doing.” Yuna motions vaguely around with her finger. “Shutting people out, charging ahead all by yourself, thinking you’re doing us all a favor by keeping us safe at the expense of your own life…” Yuna lets it all out like it’s something that’s been stuck in the back of her mind for a good while now, and it was only a matter of time before it all came tumbling out. There’s a studied calm to her voice, but Hana knows her well enough to sense the storm beneath it. “We were a team last time I checked. Or are you starting to forget that?” She pauses, wincing at the way she phrased that question; her expression softens a bit, “Everything is beyond messed up but none of it is your fault, okay? You don’t have to do this alone.”

 _This again…_ Hana groans, using the back of her hand to rub at one eye. She feels it prick with tears, more out of frustration than anything else, because she’s tired of hearing the same thing again.  _First Dae-Hyun, now Yuna, too…_

“I get it, okay? I get it. I know I can be stubborn and reckless sometimes but—”

“But that’s exactly the problem!” Yuna snaps, closing the distance between them in a couple of strides. She grips Hana by the shoulders and forces her to look her in the eye. “We’ve been over this before, and you just don’t get it! Hana, if you go on like this, you are going to get yourself killed!”

Yuna’s face is closed off and angry, but her eyes are pained. It somehow makes her look both dangerous and vulnerable, and the contrast is unsettling.

Hana swallows the lump forming at the back of her throat and takes a deep breath, willing herself not to cry.

She heaves a hollow laugh. “You think I don’t know that?” She says, before good sense can step in and give her a chance to turn around, to walk away and keep her mouth shut. She can’t quite explain the anger that grips her then, except to wonder whether it has always been there and it’s only now bubbling to the surface. “But that’s just how it is for us now. Don’t you see? There’s no turning back, there’s nothing else we  **can**  do except push forward and risk it all. Our lives stopped being our own the moment we got picked to fight in this war.”

Hana knows it’s wrong to take out her frustrations on Yuna like this. She knows. Yuna doesn’t deserve it.

But Hana is just  _so_ tired and the night behind them suddenly feels like a hundred nights all rolled into one.

Yuna’s face is lit momentarily by another passing car, and Hana can see her clearly for those few seconds—her dark hair as it falls almost into her eyes, the line of her jaw as it tightens and relaxes, and then she is in darkness once more. She hesitates, like she might be about to argue back, but then decides it isn't worth it. She lets her hands slide off of Hana’s shoulders, and Hana is seized by a sudden longing to reach for her hand, to keep her close somehow—there’s an urgency to it all that makes her feel suddenly anxious, like she waited too long for something that is now in danger of slipping away completely.

“Hey,” Hana says, grabbing Yuna’s wrist, trying to get her to look at her again. “What do you want me to say? What  **more**  do you want from me?”

When their eyes meet again, all the anger is stripped away, and all that’s left is pure hurt.

“I just want you to let me in. Talk to me,” Yuna says, voice low, like the breath at end of a weary sigh. “Don’t **you**  see? I care about you, you idiot. I am worried sick every time you go ahead and do something stupidly reckless, I—” She comes to a stop abruptly, as if her brain finally caught up with her tongue. Wide-eyed and looking more nervous than Hana had ever seen her, Yuna sighs, raking fingers through her wind-swept hair.

Then Hana gets it.

In the same manner she comes to realize most things: gradually, stubbornly, and then all at once—she understands what this was all about, in the end.

She is so used to keeping everything bottled up behind a smile in front of the cameras and then quietly take all the baggage behind closed doors; carry on, rinse and repeat, in this a never-ending, vicious circle she’s trapped in. Somewhere along the way, she must have decided that all the burden is hers alone to bear, that it makes it easier for everyone involved, so she's been holding onto her grief with a silent and stoic determination.

But there are people she can count on, people who have her back, who genuinely care about her.

Hana really needs to remind herself of this more often.

“Okay…” she says; though the word is quiet and small, and a promise without solid assurance, it’s still the deepest truth. After everything they’d been through, Hana thinks, that’s the best thing she can give Yuna. An honest and mature answer. “You’re right. We are a team. No matter what happens, for better or for worse… you and I, and the rest, we're stronger united. We should push forward together.”

She rubs her thumb along the soft skin of Yuna’s inner wrist, trying to be as reassuring as she can.

A night breeze lifts the heavy air from their shoulders and the only sounds for the longest time are those of the city.

As they stare at each other now, both coiled tight with an odd sense of anticipation.

Inbetween heartbeats, Hana realizes how close their faces are—merely inches apart.

Once again, the tension between them starts clouding her mind, not letting her focus on anything else besides Yuna’s lips.

“Is it weird that I really want to kiss you right now?” Hana whispers, unable to hold back the words any longer. They’ve been burning on her tongue for weeks now, maybe more, and she can’t think of a single reason to keep them silent anymore.

She leans forward with an edge of impatience, her mouth a breath away from Yuna’s.

There's sharp intake of breath, wrapped up in four delicate letters—her name.

“Hana.” Yuna whispers, and it melts on their lips the second they meet. Her eyes flutter shut and she presses into it, lingering just long enough to make Hana want another.

When they pull apart, Hana is light-headed and speechless, falling back into her own space in a daze. The world goes blurry, then all at once, it comes into focus again, and the clearest thing of all—the truest thing of all—is the girl right in front of her.

After what feels like an overly long pause, Yuna tells her, “Don’t think this gets you off the hook.” Her words are stern, but the blush that crawls up her neck and ears makes them sound almost timid. and Hana smiles as she closes her eyes and leans in. “You taste like  _kimchi_  soup, by the way.”

“Whatever,” she mumbles, voice going soft. “You love  _kimchi_  soup.”

She lets a giggle slip and she can feel Yuna smile against her lips.

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say. The idea of this ship has a lot of potential and the aesthetics of it appeals to me on many levels so, here we are. I'm not 100% pleased with how this turned out if I'm being honest, but I had a fun time writing it so I might end up giving this ship another shot. We'll see. Until then, thank you for reading! (And if anyone's curious, you can find me on **[Tumblr](https://fultimeinternet.tumblr.com)** , too.)


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